Passion Unbridled
by Biyo94
Summary: My take on what happened between Hannibal and Clarice after the dinner at Chesapeake. Rated M for the first chapter. The second one is much, much mild.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction plus English isn't my native language, so please be gentle. Reviews are much appreciated. I own nothing except for the story. The characters of Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling belong to the creative genius-Thomas Harris.**

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 _Passion Unbridled_

When his mouth closed around her nipple, her mind exploded with sensation. Her fingers interlocked at the back of his head and she pressed his face more firmly to her breast. With his left hand, Dr. Lecter freed her other breast through the neckline of her dress and started kneading it.

''Oh God. Yes.''

Her head fell back and her eyes rolled upwards. He came face-to-face with her and kissed her hard. Repressed desire was finally given a free reign. When his tongue demanded entry into her mouth, she willingly yielded. His tongue was everywhere-swiping across her lips, teeth and palate, colliding with her tongue while his hands continued to fondle her boobs. She moaned into his mouth when he pinched the nipple of her left breast, the pain giving an edge to the pleasure coursing through her body. Leaving her mouth, he suckled at the nipple, nipping at it then running his tongue over the areola. His right hand was working at her other breast the whole time.

He nuzzled the inside curves of her full breasts and planted hot wet kisses in the valley, tasting the beads of sweat that had formed there. Clarice tried to reach under his shirt through the collar but couldn't. It was too tight. She caressed his back through his shirt but it wasn't good enough.

''Hannibal.….too….many…ahhh…..clothes.''

Dr. Lecter looked up, clearly amused by the frustration evident in her voice. She could see the fire dancing in his maroon eyes. Superstitious people, on looking into his eyes, believed that he was the devil reincarnated. Clarice wasn't superstitious. She had always had an eerie attraction toward his eyes. She had been drawn to them the first time she saw him in his cell, so long ago. He stood up, graceful even in his passion, taking her with him. Slowly, very slowly he started unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes never leaving hers. Already frustrated by the lack of contact with his skin, she slapped his hands away and tore open his shirt, exposing his well-muscled chest and flat belly. His left nipple was scarred. She kissed him there softly, then trailed open mouthed kisses on his chest, down his abdomen. On her knees now, she opened the button of his black trouser and slowly zipped it down. Looking up into those mesmerizing eyes, full of lust and brimming with passion, she pulled down his pants and boxers, his erection springing free- a sign of his lack of self-control, and Clarice reveled in it. The fact that she had made him so hard sent a jolt of electricity through her spine. Always looking into his eyes, she coiled her fingers around his penis and started stroking it-up and down, up and down.

''Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh''

Beads of pre-cum appeared on the glans from the stimulation, his scent intoxicating to her.

''I want to taste you, '' she suddenly said and without waiting for his reply, flicked her tongue on his crown, making him shiver. His hands fell on her head, resting there, never guiding her. When she closed her lips on his glans and sucked, it took everything in him to be still and not thrust into her mouth violently.

''Clariiiiiiiiiiiceeeeeeeeeeeeeee.''

Encouraged by the reaction her movements elicited, she became more vigorous. When he couldn't take the torture anymore, he pulled at her hair, freeing him from that delicious mouth and bent down, kissing her- tasting the amalgam of her saliva and his essence.

He quickly freed himself from the remaining clothes, then picked her up over his shoulder and almost ran into the dining room. The dining table, where they had devoured Paul Krendler's brain not more than two hours ago, seemed appropriate- the height perfect. He stood Clarice near the edge and pushed down her dress, the neckline ripped due to exertion. Taking a step back, he admired her naked form. His gaze on her face, moving over her breasts with swollen coral tips, over her taut belly, over a thin covering of dark pubic hair and finally over her long shaved legs- she must have shaved them today before the dinner. Looking deep into her eyes, he whispered, ''You rival Venus, Clarice.'' The compliment made her blush.

Lifting her, he sat her on the edge of the table. Opening her legs, he bent down and gazed at the soft pink flesh there, waiting to be devoured. Clarice's breath was slow and heavy with anticipation. When he kissed her inner thigh, she reclined back till her head hit the table. He bit the flesh of her other thigh, enjoying her moans. Then he turned his attention to her sex, kissing softly, never lingering, never using his tongue, driving her mad. Not getting what she wanted, she inclined her head to meet his eyes and whimpered, ''Hannibal…..please.''

He decided to put her out of her misery. He swiped his tongue on her clit, tasting her.

''Yes.''

Out of reflex, her thighs closed around his head. He pushed them apart and continued licking her juices-sweet and salty on his tongue. He spread her folds with two fingers and pushed his tongue into her vagina, fucking her with his tongue. With his other hand, he squeezed her left breast. Her moans were music to his ears. He knew she was near. Instead of pushing her off the edge, he withdrew his tongue, smirking when she groaned. She glared at him. ''Hey, no teasing.''

Without breaking eye contact, he pushed one finger inside her. The anger on her face vanished, replaced by an expression of pure ecstasy. Her breathing grew ragged and her eyelids drooped as he started finger-fucking her. When he inserted a second finger, all conscious thoughts escaped her mind.

''Oh God.''

The rhythm he set was fast, his fingers moving in and out of her wet pussy. She was close once again and this time, Hannibal had every intention to push her off the edge. He nibbled at her swollen bud providing the final push and she came so hard that her whole body shook, his name echoing off the walls of the big house.

When she finally came back to her senses, Hannibal got up and kissed her. She could taste herself on his mouth. ''Now Hannibal. Now please. I need to feel you inside me.''

He penetrated her slowly, stretching her to her limits. She was so wet...wet for him, tight and hot. It felt so good that he had to pause and divert his attention elsewhere- focusing on the painting on the wall. The pause provided her ample time to adjust herself around him. He was too big for her but the pleasure overrode the pain. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he started a slow, sensual rhythm. She knew he was holding back, fearing that he might hurt her. Clarice didn't like this restraint on his passion. She wanted him completely unbridled.

''Harder Hannibal. Don't hold back. Fuck me hard.''

Her words were all the encouragement he needed. His strokes increased exponentially in length and speed. He pulled out completely and pushed all the way in at ferocious speed. She cried in pleasure everytime his length hit her cervix. He looked at her. She was a sight to behold- leaning back, with her elbows supporting the slope, breasts swaying with the movements, face contorted with pain and pleasure, eyes closed.

''Open your eyes, Clarice,'' he said, panting. She did and watched him pounding into her, again and again, like a savage beast.

When he pinched her nipples, she came hard, her walls tightening around him. He pushed to the hilt one final time, emptying himself inside her.

''Ahhhhhh…Clariiiiiiceeeeee.''

When he pulled out of her, his seed flowed out of her pussy. He sagged on the table beside her, his arm around her waist. It took a few moments for him to regain his composure and when he looked at her, she was smiling.

''I will never forget the moment I saw Hannibal Lecter lose control,'' she said in a hoarse voice.

Smiling back, he kissed her softly. ''Did I hurt you?''

''No.''

He got up and lifting her in bridal fashion, carried her to his room. Clarice Starling saw Hannibal Lecter lose control many, many times that night.


	2. Chapter 2

The smell of sex was heavy in the air. The couple had just finished their latest bout of lovemaking, seventh or eighth perhaps, they had lost count. Now they lay in a tangle of sheets, panting, Clarice's head propped on Dr. Lecter's chest. After resting for a few moments, Clarice glanced at the clock hanging on the wall- quarter past four. Despite the late hour and her exhaustion, sleep was the last thing on her mind. Pressing her ear to his chest, she listened to his heartbeat- calm like the ocean. Suddenly she felt the urge to look into his eyes and was disappointed to find them close. His breathing was even. She kissed his chest softly and got up, careful not to disturb him. After using the bathroom, she made her way to the balcony, naked, gazing down at the rows of trees and breathing intently the air laden with moisture.

''It's cold out there, Clarice. Come back to bed.'' Even half asleep, his voice was focused and commanding.

She came inside and closed the balcony doors. ''I thought you were asleep.''

''I was. I'm not anymore. Now come back to bed,'' he said lifting the comforter and patting the space beside him.

The warmth of the comforter and his body was an instant relief and she shivered. His arms tightening around her as she rested her head on his chest. Her hands had a mind of their own, roaming over his chest, his stomach, feeling his muscular arms.

She realized she was smiling. That hadn't happened to her before. She had never let her emotions seep through her bodily reactions. Usually she would analyze the situation and decide her reaction accordingly. Rationality spoiled a lot of things for her. But this moment was unlike anything she had ever experienced and she couldn't control the emotions it provoked. She felt light as a bubble, floating in the air. Reveling in the blissful moment, she felt her heart was saying something, her heartbeat a monologue- I love him, I love him, I love him….

 _I love him._

She looked at his face-serene as always, betraying no emotion, and felt anger.

''How many women have you slept with?'' she blurted out.

His eyes opened instantly. ''Pardon?''

''How many women have you slept with?'' she repeated the question, emphasizing each word.

''Hmm. I don't think 'former lovers' is a good pillow talk subject, _Agent Starling.''_

''Answer the question, _Doctor,''_ she replied unyielding.

Hannibal Lecter appreciated strength and directness. Though her question was rude, he responded to the curiosity in her eyes. ''Not many. I abhor promiscuity. Why do you ask?''

''It's just that you seem so, I don't know, apathetic. I wanted to know if _this_ is a regular occurrence to you. It isn't for me,'' she lashed out at him. They stared at each other for a long time, the maroon of his eyes blending into the copper green of hers. Finally, Clarice relented and looking down at his chest, said, ''I shouldn't have said that. It was rude of me. I'm sorry.''

''You need not apologise for saying what you feel, Clarice. Not with me.'' He lifted her chin till her eyes met his and continued, ''I assure you Clarice that this is new to me as well. I'm not untouched by the intensity of emotions between us. You are unlike any woman I've ever been intimate with. You are unique and I'm in awe of you.''

Clarice smiled shyly at the compliment. ''So you're in awe of a rube?'' she teased him.

''I never said you were a rube. I merely pointed out that you _looked_ like a rube to me,'' Dr. Lecter replied, playing along.

''Is there a difference?''

''Of course there is a difference, my dear. I was annoyed that you were trying to quantify me, so I pushed back with facts. You _looked_ like a rube to me then so I pointed it out. I was trying to get under your skin, test your control. I don't know if I succeeded.''

''Oh you succeeded, all right. I felt like I had given blood when I got up to leave.'' A pause. ''I've always wondered why you talked to me. And why were you so interested in my past?''

''I talked to you initially because you were a source of communication between me and Jack Crawford, nothing more. I wanted to trade with him.'' She had prepared for it but the truth hurt her, nonetheless.

''To answer your second question, I was interested in your past because you intrigued me. It was a purely professional curiosity at first but then it became something more. I remember I told you that it would be something to know you in private life. I meant it. Your qualities, your principles and the moral code you had imposed on yourself, all intrigued me.''

''Did you think of me while you were on the run from the authorities?''

''I am not a man who lets his thoughts run wild, Clarice. Your memories were like a vintage wine, to be savored when I chose to. I visited your room in my memory palace from time to time. Occasionally, a smell or a sight would remind me of you. During one such incidence, I purchased some lotions and perfumes for you in Florence and sent it to you on a whim.''

''So you did actually send it! I thought Krendler just made it up. Wait a minute. That note, that 'Honey in the Lion' bit should have been enough for me to realize that you wrote it. That dim-witted Krendler wouldn't have been able to come up with something like that.''

''What do you think about it?'''

''About what?''

''That 'Honey in the Lion' _bit_ , as you so masterfully put it.''

''Are you fishing for compliments, Doctor?''

His lips curled up in a genuine smile. ''I'd be honored if you deemed it worthy of compliment, Clarice.''

She searched his face to decide if he was teasing her. Nothing. He was serious.

 _From playful and flirty to all serious and business-like in a span of ten seconds._

She heard Ardelia's voice in her head, ''Get used to it, girl.''

''Since I incorrectly assumed that Krendler made it up, I never really gave it much thought.''

Clarice saw a flash of disappointment cross his face. She quickly added, ''We've all the time now. Help me figure it out, Hannibal. ''

Every time she said his name, his heart soared. He had heard her scream his name, in the throes of passion but this was different, more intimate in a different kind of way. It meant she was getting comfortable with the idea of them being together. The thought pleased him immensely.

''I'm familiar with Samson's riddle and the biblical tale,'' her voice brought him out of his reverie. He nodded, encouraging her, knowing full well that she didn't need his help to figure it out.

Hannibal watched her face as she pondered over the subject. Her head tilted, eyes closed as she went through the story in her mind, her forehead creasing, a sign that she was deep in her thoughts, analyzing. And then her eyes opened, locking with his, surprise evident on her face.

''You knew, didn't you? You've always known.''

He nodded. ''I knew from the moment I first saw you that you were uncommon. It took me some time to figure out how much. I saw ambition in your eyes, but also yearning- yearning to be understood and appreciated.''

Starling's eyes were distant now. ''I was doomed from the start, wasn't I? Those people at the FBI- the Philistines, they never understood me.''

''Samson's killing of the lion with his bare hands and the honey in the carcass- the Philistines were not familiar with such an event. It was outside the bounds of their experience- an almost other-worldly thing. Just like you, Clarice. You're one of a kind. Those bottom-feeders at the FBI had never seen someone like you. You were an enigma to them. So they were hostile toward you. The human race is strange, you see. Hostility comes easily to us, empathy is rare.''

A single teardrop rolled down her cheek. ''I can't believe I wasted seven years of my life doing what I did. Now that I think about it, I'd always suspected the truth, I was just coward never to ….'' She broke down and started sobbing on his chest. Dr. Lecter let her cry, smoothing her hair affectionately- a sign that he was there. Always. He knew it was a rare gift that she let him see her so vulnerable.

When her sobs subsided, he said, ''Every experience teaches us something, Clarice. Do not begrudge the past for it is the past that made you who you are now. You're a warrior, Clarice. You survived everything life threw at you, the best way you thought you could. You wrought an armor around you, never letting anyone get too close, never relying on others, never trusting another person beyond a limit.'' He waited for her to look up at him- her eyes puffy and red from crying, then whispered, ''Allow me the privilege to take care of you, Clarice. I want to spoil you, show you things worthy of your eyes, share exp…''

Clarice's mouth descended on his, forceful and demanding, her hands tilting his head for better access. The kiss lasted for about a minute. When she looked at him, she knew the moment was perfect.

''I love you.'' Her voice was steady as if she had taken a sip of his strength during the kiss.

''I love you too.''

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 **The 'Honey in the Lion' reference in the novel has always puzzled me. I spent a lot of time on the internet to know what Mr. Harris was trying to convey. There are so many explanations. The one I used above is, IMHO, the most apt. If you're not satisfied and have an alternate explanation, feel free to express it in your review or PM me anytime. I'd love to know your opinion. Thank you for reading my work :)**


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